The Winds of Change
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Threeshot. AU. "Everything's going to be different now, isn't it?" "No... Nothing will change. Nothing is EVER going to change... We'll always be brothers." "Everyday, come rain or shine, through hell or high water?" "I promise." No pairings.
1. Next to Me

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! This is my way of saying thank you to all my wonderful readers and reviewers, especially feathersnow who helped me come up with this idea in the first place. I'm posting the first two chapters now, and hopefully will have the finale up by tomorrow.**

**I was originally hoping to fit this idea into my Parental!RoyEd fic _Till I'm a Hundred, You Idiot,_ but ultimately felt this was too extensive of an idea to fit a single chapter. It was heavily inspired by the movie Charlie St. Cloud; those who are familiar with the story will probably be able to predict some of what's going to happen and recognize some similarities, but it's different enough that I'm pretty sure there will be as many surprises for them as for those who haven't seen the movie at all. (One thing I _will_ point out is that the poem I've quoted is quoted in the movie, and later on I'll be taking a quote almost verbatim from some heart-wrenchingly beautiful dialogue between Charlie and Sam.) The story is set in a modern-technology AU, but there's still alchemy and everything familiar from the original setting. Enjoy!  
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**Chapter One: Next to Me**

_trust your heart  
>if the seas catch fire<br>(and live by love  
>though the stars walk backward)<br>honour the past  
>but welcome the future<em>

_- e. e. cummings_

_So keep me awake for every moment  
>Give us more time to feel this way<br>We can't stay like this forever  
>But I can have you next to me today<em>

_- "Awake" by Josh Groban_

Roy Mustang couldn't help staring at the boy sitting in the wheelchair in front of him, gazing glumly into his lap. He looked so tiny and pitiful, a mere eleven years old, already missing half his limbs. Orphaned. Lost. It was hard to believe he could have done something like that, but there was no denying it. Roy had seen the blood. He'd seen the circle, a circle far more complex and detailed than he would have been able to manage till he was eighteen. Edward Elric had performed human transmutation.

Roy sipped the tea Pinako Rockbell had given him, but only out of politeness. His heart was pounding wildly as he thought of the potential this boy possessed. He was a _genius._ If he could be trained even further, harnessed for the good of the country... But he mustn't let himself get carried away. "You're a very talented boy, Edward," he began carefully. "What would you say if I offered you the chance to put that talent to use?"

Pinako suddenly interrupted, thumping her pipe down on the table. "Hold it right there, Mr. Mustang! I know what you're about to say – that Ed should join you. That he should become a State Alchemist! A _dog of the military._" She looked as though she wanted to spit, but just shoved more tobacco in her pipe instead.

But the boy had finally looked up, so Roy didn't give up hope yet. "Forgive me, Mrs. Rockbell, but I think we should hear what Edward has to say." He looked at Edward's golden eyes, slowly lighting up with hope. "As a State Alchemist, you will be given access to every resource the government has to offer, as well as funding for research. Yes, you will have to do as ordered. If Drachma violates the truce and war breaks out, you will be deployed. But," he added, holding up his hand as Pinako looked ready to protest again, "I would add that, if the Drachma War _did_ break out again, you wouldn't avoid it just because you weren't in the military already. The draft would extend even to Risenpool."

He sat back in his chair, holding Edward's gaze even as he drained his cup. "So what will it be? Will you follow your dream and increase your knowledge of alchemy? Or will you stay here for the rest of your life, feeling sorry for yourself?"

He stood, reaching for his coat, and dared to glance at Pinako again. She looked livid. "Now, wait just a moment, I-"

"Granny."

They both fell silent and looked at Edward, whose head was bowed over his lap again. Then Edward raised his head, and instead of his previous hopeless lethargy, his eyes burned with the fire of determination. "I made a mistake," he said in a low, pained voice. "And I know I can't take it back...but I want to get better at alchemy. I'll become a State Alchemist."

Pinako's face crumpled. "Ed...you don't mean...?"

A tiny, sad smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Don't worry. I won't try human transmutation again. I know what I've lost. But maybe even someone like me can make this world just a little bit better, somehow. Alchemy is supposed to help people...and as a State Alchemist, I'll be able to help even _more_ people than I can like this."

Roy smiled and nodded, even as Pinako's shoulders slumped in defeat. "That's the spirit, kid. See you in Central."

* * *

><p>"Granny, fit me out with automail." He said that so easily, but he hadn't anticipated how hard it would really be. It was an obvious necessity, if he was to become a State Alchemist as he had decided – after all, he wouldn't be of much good to the state with two stubs and a wheelchair. But even with the most modern technology and the strongest drugs available, fitting two robotic prosthetics to his limbs was hard on his body.<p>

Pinako had a special rural license issued by the government that allowed her to perform the surgery out of her own home, and at Edward's bidding she set up the bed in which he would recuperate in the very same room he had lost his limbs in the first place. Pinako protested at first, saying it would be much more convenient if they could treat him in their own house, but then Winry pointed out that here, he would have easy access to plenty of books to keep his mind off the pain.

Edward said nothing.

The first two weeks were torture, but slowly the pain began to subside and his body began to heal. Edward focused on the physical therapy to get his new limbs working correctly, ignoring Pinako's predictions that it would take a year to make them fully functional. He was eager to get going, to take Mustang up on his offer, to _do _something with his life and stop huddling in his bed or wheelchair like a cripple.

And then the time finally came, only six months later. He called up the office at Central City, got shunted back and forth between several disbelieving receptionists, and finally was referred to Mustang himself. They set up an appointment for him to be tested by the State Alchemist committee, and Edward only had to count down the hours until he would find out if he had what it took or not.

Alphonse came to him the night before he left, sitting down quietly in the chair beside him. Edward looked up, shrewdly examining his little brother's expression. "What's up?"

He looked down at his shoes. "You're really going to do it, aren't you? Become a State Alchemist."

"I sure hope so. If Mustang wasn't just shooting off his mouth back then."

"You'll make it. I know you will."

Edward felt his chest swelling at the pride and confidence he heard in Alphonse's voice, but something was still wrong.

Alphonse carefully looked anywhere but at him. "When you get your watch...are you going to move to East City?"

"What? No way! I'm living here with you! I'll just hop on the train and commute to work."

"But isn't that like four hours away?"

Edward couldn't believe they were having this conversation. Hoping to reassure Alphonse, he snorted and went back to his book. "Look, there's no way I'm going to move away from this house just so I can sleep in and walk to work. This is my home, and you're my family. That's all."

* * *

><p>Roy watched carefully from the balcony as Edward walked into the examination room. The Fuhrer and several officials stood ready to assess him, while the few lucky enough to obtain permission to be in the room stood on either side of Roy. They had a perfect vantage point to see everything that happened below, unlike everyone else in the country. There were no cameras in this room, and no media was allowed access to the applicants until a decision had been made.<p>

Of course, that meant there were no _security_ cameras in the room, either. When Fuhrer Bradley had given a short introduction and asked to see a practical demonstration of his alchemic ability, Edward clapped his hands and transmuted a spear from the floor. Rather than being content with the astonished looks on everyone's faces, Edward whipped his archaic weapon around and charged directly towards the Fuhrer. Roy started. What was the boy _thinking?_

The Fuhrer's bodyguards whipped out their guns, but the point of the spear was already at Bradley's neck. Bradley waved his bodyguards away when Edward stopped and lowered his spear again, smiling. "You know, I get why you don't have security cams in here, but don't you think you'd better have tighter security than this? Anything could happen."

Bradley smiled back. "I'll take that into consideration. You've got guts, Edward Elric, and I like seeing that in my State Alchemists. But you might want to be more careful yourself."

He chuckled as he walked away, leaving a stunned Edward clutching two halves of his spear and obviously wondering how Bradley could have chopped it in half so quickly. Roy was less surprised, having had previous experience with Bradley's lightning-fast reflexes, but he smiled secretly to himself. Edward had done remarkably well, and he could already sense the appreciative glances cast his way.

When Edward was chosen as a State Alchemist, Roy met him outside Headquarters to congratulate him. "So you really made it, kid. The youngest State Alchemist in history...and also the shortest, I might add."

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING A BULLET-SIZED HUMAN WEAPON?"

"Hey, nobody told me there was a party!"

Roy knew before an over-exuberant arm wrapped around his shoulders that his best friend Hughes had come.

"So, Roy told me all about you," Hughes said comfortably, grinning down at Edward, who still looked miffed. "Whaddya say you all come over to my house to celebrate? My wife makes the best quiche you've ever tasted!"

Edward looked genuinely torn. "I'd love to, but...I've really gotta get home."

Hughes deflated a little. "Are you sure? Well, maybe some other time!"

"Yeah, maybe."

Roy wondered why he got the impression that Edward had no intention of ever eating dinner at Hughes's house.

* * *

><p>Edward hurried through the hallway, barely even stopping to slam the front door closed. But when he burst into the study at the back of the house, he saw that he needn't have worried. Alphonse was waiting for him, reading a book like always, but looking up as soon as the door opened. "Brother...did you...?"<p>

A grin stretched his cheeks to the limit, and he brandished his shiny new silver watch at his little brother. "Check it out! The youngest State Alchemist in history! The exam was a cinch for a genius like me!" He carelessly tossed the watch onto the pillow of his bed under the window, and kicked his shoes off before flopping down on the floor next to Alphonse.

"Oh, really?" Alphonse said with a good-natured smirk. "Then how come you look exhausted?"

Edward realized he was yawning, and quickly tried to interrupt it by mumbling, "Aw, shut up." He pulled towards him the book he'd been reading the night before and settled down to read it. "I'm not tired at all."

"Then I guess you're not too tired for...this!" Alphonse suddenly pounced on him, and they wrestled around on the floor. Edward almost won, with the advantage his automail gave him, until Alphonse jabbed at his ribs and left him shrieking helplessly with laughter.

Several breathless minutes later, they lay on the cool floor, basking in the contented silence. Alphonse, who lay with his head resting on Edward's stomach, eventually spoke up. His voice was quiet and vulnerable as he said, "Everything's going to be different now, isn't it?"

Edward felt a chill run down his spine, a weight on his heart that he'd successfully ignored ever since that awful night. He'd been hoping he could push it away if he got this job, but now that he had it... Had he made the right choice? Maybe he'd only made things worse.

"No," he said firmly, scowling at the ceiling. "Nothing will change. Nothing is _ever_ going to change. Even if I'm a State Alchemist. We'll always be brothers, after all."

Alphonse raised his head slightly, looking earnestly into his brother's eyes. There was something almost desperate in his voice. "Promise - everyday, come rain or shine, through hell or high water?"

Edward's fingers closed around Alphonse's hand, pushing the nagging worries into the furthest corner of his mind. "I promise."


	2. These Moments Endless

_If I could make these moments endless  
>If I could stop the winds of change<br>If we just keep our eyes wide open  
>Then everything would stay the same<em>

_- "Awake" by Josh Groban_

**Chapter Two: These Moments Endless**

Roy had been eager to get Edward under his command. Not only did he now have a genius to throw at whatever problems he had to cope with, he had even been commended by the Fuhrer himself for finding such an asset for the military. As an alchemist, he'd been looking forward to having such an accomplished protege to raise. Maybe he could raise Edward better than his master had done for him. Maybe, even though Edward was entering the military at an even younger age than he had, he could keep the boy from making some of the mistakes he had.

Of course, all of his hopes were swiftly brought back to a reasonably low level once he got to know Edward better. He wasn't used to dealing with adolescents, and Edward was...unique. He had the shortest temper Roy had ever seen, coupled with the impatience and cocky attitude of a genius who wasn't exactly _aware_ that he was a genius, but couldn't understand why no one else could keep up. He was also restless and eager to prove himself and test his abilities, so Roy quickly learned that it would be courting disaster to make him sit in the office and lighten their load of paperwork.

So Edward ended up getting all the field missions Roy could possibly find. The east was still an uneasy place to live, with refugees from the Ishbal War, unrest from various border disputes, and the general unruliness of the frontier. Roy started Edward off small, just sending him to investigate tax trouble in the small town of Youswell. But when Edward returned later that evening, with the corrupt Lieutenant Yoki in tow and all rights to the town back in the hands of the people, Roy saw that it would be a true challenge to keep up with the boy's abilities.

In fact, it often seemed that Edward was desperately rushing to get his assignments done within the day. There was a sort of frantic urgency about him when he came to the office, bleary-eyed and yawning, at 8:00 sharp to get his orders for the day. Something was driving him onward, like a swiftly advancing brushfire that was always a little too close for comfort, a little too fast for an easy retreat. And he always caught the 5:00 train back to Risenpool – battered and exhausted more often than not, but always successful.

Once, Roy asked him (after an eventful morning in which he had single-handedly stopped the terrorists that had hijacked the train he'd ridden on, dismantled the bomb they'd intended to blow up the station with, and brought the train to a safe halt all by himself because the conductor had been knocked out) why he didn't take it a little slower, maybe use his extra funds to stay overnight in a hotel. Edward looked uncomfortable, fiddling with his pen (with which he'd been filling out some of his own paperwork, a rare sight indeed) and refusing to meet his superior's gaze. "I just...wanna get home and see my little brother."

Roy blinked in surprise and lowered his pen. "I didn't know you had a brother."

He still didn't look up. "Yeah...Alphonse. He's eleven. I'm gonna go get some coffee or something; I've got a headache."

Abruptly, he got up and strode out, ever so casual. Roy set down his pen and grabbed Edward's file from the cabinet in the corner. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Edward was really gone, and flipped through the detailed information every State Alchemist was required to have on file for security reasons. _Family: Parents (divorced) – Theo van Hohenheim, Trisha Elric (deceased); sibling(s) – Alphonse El-_

Roy quickly closed the file and shoved it back in place when he heard Edward's voice in the outer office. He tried to act casual as he shut the drawer and returned to his desk. After all, was it really so surprising that Edward had a brother, just because he'd never mentioned him before? No, of course not, but...something was still bothering him. If it really was so important to Edward that he spend time every day with his brother, if they were really that close, then why had he never even mentioned him before? And...where had this Alphonse been when Edward was slumped, crippled, in an armchair? Where had he been when Roy had offered him a job? And why was Edward still so reluctant to talk about him?

* * *

><p>Edward loved his new job. Sometimes, when he was bound and gagged in a chair or when his automail got busted <em>again<em> and he knew his research funds would go down the drain for the umpteenth time, he wondered why he'd ever wanted to do this at all. But then he would see the smiles of the people he'd helped, or he'd stumble across a fascinating book in the First Branch of the Central Library that had been out of print for as long as he'd been alive. Then he would feel an immense satisfaction with his life. He knew he'd made the right choice.

At first, he hadn't thought he'd get along with his superior officer at all. Mustang was _always_ cracking a joke about his height, and flaunting his own successes and ambitions. But as the weeks turned into months and he grew used to his new lifestyle, he discovered that it wasn't so bad after all to work under Roy Mustang. He acted like a jerk most of the time, of course, but Edward could see how much the others under his command respected him. And when he _really_ needed some help, Mustang somehow always managed to be there.

When he got fooled by Barry the Chopper and came within an inch of being sliced to ribbons because his automail had been detached, Mustang showed up at the last minute and roasted the nutcase like a pig. When Scar hunted him down and blasted his entire arm into pieces, Mustang came to the rescue – even though he was putting himself in as much danger, since they were both State Alchemists. When Edward took it upon himself to investigate the suspicious happenings in the military Laboratory 5, Mustang was the one who went after him, pulling him back just as the entire building collapsed. (Apparently, the foundation was unstable, which was why it had been abandoned – no secret experiments after all.)

Edward was more than a little disgruntled that Mustang was always saving him, as though he couldn't manage on his own. At the same time, it was a nice feeling, knowing that there was someone he could rely on, someone who would always be there if he needed him.

This carried on for months. Edward spent his days rounding up criminals and researching whatever struck his fancy, and his nights he spent with his brother. Even though he wasn't technically allowed to do so, he shared the knowledge he'd gleaned from books only State Alchemists had access to, and together they dreamed up grand theories and transmutations that could change the world – as they always had. They talked a lot, and sometimes they scuffled around or sparred or practiced their transmutations. But no matter what they ended up doing, those nights were the highlight of Edward's life. They left him exhausted by the morning, having had no sleep whatsoever, but there were always train rides and weekends for that. His brother was more important anyway.

Only one cloud marred the bright, cheerful horizon. Mustang kept on pressing him to take on missions farther away, or missions that would require him to be gone for several days, or even a week. But he just didn't understand. Edward _needed_ to come home every night, so he couldn't accept such orders. Now there was always a fear tugging at his heart, because he knew that Mustang had every right to enforce his orders. He had no choice but to obey...because he _couldn't_ quit. Not now.

"Al," he finally said one night, frowning at his mug of tea. "I...I feel like Mustang is pulling me away from you."

As usual, Alphonse didn't need to ask him what he meant. He just looked at him with his innocent, open expression and said softly, "Maybe that's a good thing."

Edward slammed his mug down on the desk, so hard that some sloshed out. He ignored it. "What are you talking about? You're the most important person in my life, Al! You're my _brother._ I would choose you over the stupid colonel any day!"

Alphonse was still smiling that sad, aggravatingly _selfless_ smile that made Edward's stomach twist into knots. "Thanks, Brother. But you need to start thinking about what's best for _you._ He cares for you too, and he can do a lot better job of it than I can from here. Don't you think it would be better if you-"

"No," Edward snapped, getting to his feet and stalking across the room. "_No._ I'm not letting him take you away too. We're happy _now,_ so let's just keep on like this for good. For the rest of my life. Forever! Nothing needs to change. I won't let it."

Behind him, Alphonse sighed.

* * *

><p>Roy knew there was no justifiable reason he was doing it, no logical explanation he could offer to anyone who asked him *** he was doing...but he didn't care. He felt like a stalker, riding in the train car behind Edward's all the way back to Risenpool and following him stealthily home, but he had to get to the bottom of this or he thought he'd go crazy. No matter how many times he told himself that Edward's odd insistence that he be home every night and obvious evasion of every mention of his brother were just manifestations of his own paranoia, Roy couldn't help feeling there was something deeply wrong about all of this.<p>

At times, Roy was sure that when he followed Edward back home he would discover Edward in a tryst with some local milkmaid, or that he would turn out to be a vampire who had to be nailed into his coffin to keep him from preying on the unsuspecting townsfolk. His theories ranged from the twisted to the downright outlandish, but he hoped with all his might that he just had an overactive imagination. He didn't want to think badly of the boy. So maybe his real purpose was to prove himself wrong.

Even though he'd come this far, Roy still hesitated behind a tree as he watched Edward close the front door of his little white house behind himself. What if there _wasn't_ anything horribly wrong with Edward? What if there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything? Then he would be trespassing, betraying Edward's privacy. This was _wrong._

After battling with himself for several minutes, Roy finally hit upon a way out: the Rockbells. He still remembered the way to their house, so he hurried to their front door. He didn't even need to knock; the dog announced his presence, and old Pinako Rockbell herself opened the door as he approached. Immediately, her kindly expression hardened. "Colonel Mustang. What do you want?"

Roy looked down at the diminutive woman and saw that he would have to be completely honest with her, or he would learn nothing. He let his shoulders relax with a sigh. "Actually...it's about Edward. He's unharmed," he quickly added, before she could worry. "He's at home right now. But I wanted to talk to you about him."

Pinako hesitated, then reluctantly stepped aside. "I guess you'll have to come in, then."

When they were settled at the kitchen table with tea and cookies (despite her obvious aversion to the military, Pinako was impeccably hospitable), Roy folded his hands in front of him. Obviously, he couldn't divulge every last one of his suspicions, so he started with the safest route. "To tell you the truth, Mrs. Rockbell, I'm concerned for Edward's health. He always seems exhausted; he falls asleep whenever he has a spare moment. Sometimes he even falls asleep in the mess hall. Do you have any idea...is he depriving himself of sleep?"

Pinako's frown deepened, and lines of concern furrowed her brow. "Now that you mention it...I've noticed the same thing, when I drop by on the weekends or when he's in here for maintenance. He falls asleep anywhere and everywhere. I assumed it was the military's doing."

Roy grimaced; so this was what she thought of them. "I won't deny that his job is a physically strenuous one, especially for one so young. But even with all the naps he takes, he still seems so tired, even on days when the work is light or he's in the library doing research. It only seems to be more pronounced with time. Does he...have trouble sleeping at night?"

Pinako shook her head. "That I don't know. After his mother died, I know he would often stay up late into the night researching. Reading up on human transmutation, I suppose." She blew a large smoke ring that dissipated sadly in the air. "Back then, Alphonse could usually persuade him to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but once Alphonse passed away...well, I wouldn't be surprised if-"

"Wait." Slowly, Roy lowered the teacup that had just touched his lips. "Alphonse Elric...his brother...is dead?"

She nodded sadly. "I'm not surprised he never mentioned it to you. Ed doesn't like talking about Al, not since that horrible day. He died when they tried to bring their mother back," she explained quietly. "A rebound, I think you call it."

The blood was pounding loudly in Roy's ears, and he could feel his face paling. He shot to his feet and was halfway to the door when he realized Pinako would need some kind of explanation. "Sorry – some business – I have to attend – good day!"

That was the best he could manage before he bolted out the door and started running for the Elric house. Halfway there, he made himself slow down to a brisk walk, breathing hard as he tried to think of what to do. What did this mean? When Edward had said he needed to be home for his brother...

His mind was in turmoil, and he hadn't come up with any plan by the time he reached the front door. So he just knocked instead. He counted the seconds that passed with no answer, and when a full minute had elapsed, he tried the door, which opened soundlessly at his touch. Then he set out in search of Edward.

He didn't know why he was tiptoeing through the house, or why he didn't call out the boy's name, but in the end he was glad he did. After prowling through the living room and kitchen, he heard the faint sound of Edward's voice and stealthily tracked it to the back of the house. At the end of a hallway, a door was ajar; Roy crept towards it and peeked in.

Edward was sitting sprawled in a squashy armchair with a book in his hands that he was reading by the last rays of the setting sun. He seemed to be talking to himself. "Then the guy comes up and says, 'Okay, listen here, shorty' – he called me a shorty! – 'I'm gonna give you to the count of three, and if you don't spill the beans I'll send your brains out your ears.' He looked to the side and laughed after a momentary silence. "I know! Talk about cliché. It was like he was _trying_ to sound like a comic-book villain. And he wouldn't listen to me when I said I didn't know anything anyway, so I just beat him up a little until he apologized."

Throwing the book down, he leapt to his feet and put his hands on his hips, glaring into empty space. "I'm serious! I-" He hesitated, then scoffed. "Aw, don't give me that, Al; I swear I- YOU GET BACK HERE, ALPHONSE ELRIC!" With that, he started running around the room as if chasing someone, grinning madly. But there was no one there.

Roy drew back when Edward landed on hands and knees and started taunting thin air. It was just as if he was talking to his brother...but his brother was dead. Roy caught a glimpse of Edward's face as the boy started laughing, and it grew hard to swallow. He understood the boy so much better now, and he knew what to do. Unfortunately.


	3. When You Are All I See

**Author's Note: A bit later than I'd intended to put this up, but I hope you enjoy all the same. (And fixed an atrocious typo in which I somehow put down the wrong automail leg. Which is quite embarrassing, for an FMA fan of six years.) Thanks once again to all my reviewers, old and new!**_  
><em>

_We'll let tomorrow wait  
>You're here right now with me<br>And all my fears just fall away  
>When you are all I see<em>

_- "Awake" by Josh Groban_

**Chapter Three: When You Are All I See**

Roy was dreading the next morning. He stared up at the ceiling all night, wondering what on earth he was going to say. He finally drifted off around four, and trudged to work half-asleep, still with no idea how he could possibly handle this in a way that wouldn't send Edward into a towering rage. He supposed he should just assume the towering rage would come, and try to beat some sense into him all the same. The prospect didn't excite him, and as if in sympathy for his emotional state, the sky opened up and it started to pour while he was driving to work.

He had barely finished his first cup of coffee when Edward showed up. The boy came, yawning loudly as he always did, and asked groggily, "So what's the schedule today?"

Roy took a deep, steadying breath. "Close the door, Full Metal; I want to talk to you about something."

That woke the boy up. He did as he was told and took his place in front of Roy's desk, wearing a guarded expression. "What's up?"

Roy weighed his options and picked the likeliest one. "How early do you have to catch the train in Risenpool?"

"Six, why?"

"I'll be honest with you, Full Metal: I don't like that you commute back and forth between here and Risenpool every day. It means too many late nights and early mornings, and it's obvious the strain is starting to take its toll."

"I'm _fine._"

Roy coolly straightened the pens on his desk, trying to push away the gathering sense of dread. "No, you're not. You're exhausted; most days you can't even sit still for five minutes before you drift off. I know what sleep deprivation is like, Full Metal; I saw it in the war. When you're pushed past endurance, you become weaker, more susceptible to infections and diseases. If you push yourself even further, you can even start to have hallucinations, and I hardly think that's advisable for-"

"Are you trying to tell me I'm crazy?" Edward demanded.

A stranger moved his lips as he calmly said, "You tell me. You clearly said that you go home every night to be with your brother. But your brother's dead."

"No he's not," Edward immediately snapped.

Roy leaned forward slightly. "I have the records of his death. I went and saw his tombstone right next to your mother's. I'm sorry to have to break this to you, but your brother is _gone._"

"He's _not!_" Edward shouted, slamming his fists onto the desk.

"Don't do this, Edward," Roy said earnestly, putting a hand on the boy's arm. "You're only hurting yourself; can't you see? Stop this game of pretend." He gazed intently into Edward's eyes, now so close to his own. "You _know_ he's dead, deep down, don't you? You need to accept it, and move on."

Edward bowed his head over his clenched fists, and Roy wondered if he was getting through. "You have two strong legs," he continued, "now get up and use them. Stop letting the past claim your heart and mind. I think that's what your brother would want."

At that, Edward stiffened and slowly straightened again. "Shut up." He looked livid. "What do you think you know? What the _hell_ do you know about _anything?_ My brother's not dead! He's not dead, he's _not dead!_ Don't you dare say anything about Al, you hear me? He's my_ brother! _He's_ alive!_" He was screaming at the top of his lungs by the time he ripped away from Roy's grip and raced for the door, which he nearly wrenched from its hinges on his way out. He ran full-tilt through the outer office, scattering loose papers on the desks, and was gone before the others could do more than look up.

For a moment, Roy hesitated. Run after Edward, or let him blow off steam and wait for him to return? But no...there had been a desperate glint in Edward's eyes; he might never come back after such a confrontation. Cursing to himself, Roy grabbed his raincoat and set off in pursuit.

* * *

><p>Edward spent most of the day sulking and avoiding his usual haunts, keeping to the emptiest streets he could find and making a wide circuit around Main Street, just in case someone had been sent to fetch him back to Headquarters. He was exhausted by the time he finally trudged up the stairs of the train station, but at least he didn't have to think about Mustang's words when he could barely drag one foot in front of another. He was just digging in his pocket for his round-trip ticket when he heard it.<p>

The TVs set up at convenient intervals around the station had been blabbering on about boring politics that Edward didn't care about, but all of a sudden the sound droning over the loudspeakers squeaked to a sudden halt. "_We interrupt this program for an urgent news flash,_" a different news reporter said this time. "_Scar has been sighted again within the limits of East City._"

Edward slowed to a full halt, hearing a ripple of astonishment and fear spread across the station. He watched with everyone else as the TV showed footage of one man chasing another down a side street. The one with the shock of white hair was obviously Scar, but when Edward glanced at Scar's prey his stomach did a somersault and his heart stuttered to a halt.

It was Mustang.

There was no mistaking it as the camera zoomed in closer and showed the man glancing over his shoulder as he ran with all his might to get out of Scar's range. "_We urge civilians to remain calm, and remind them that Scar is only known to target State Alchemists and those who get in his way. For your own safety, we urge you to remain where you are until we have further news. If you see Scar, do _not_ attempt to detain him, but call the military hotline-_"

Edward tuned out the woman on the screen and looked nervously out the window. It had been raining all day, and didn't seem like it would let up anytime soon. Mustang's ignition-cloth gloves would be completely useless, so all he had to defend himself with was his speed and a gun, if he'd remembered to bring one this time. He was known for neglecting to arm himself with anything but his alchemy, the conceited jerk.

Then another message broke out over the loudspeaker: "_Train to Risenpool, leaving in five minutes from Platform 5._"

Edward's breath caught in his throat. If he didn't go and _do_ something, Mustang might get killed. But...if he didn't catch that train, he would never get to Risenpool in time... He felt as though two freight trains were barreling towards each other in his brain, while he could do nothing but wait for the imminent crash.

Mustang, or Alphonse? He was faced with the impossible choice. He thought for a full minute before he realized, with a heavy sense of resignation, which choice he had to make. And as he raced back out into the rain, he imagined he could feel an invisible thread tied to his heart snap. He swallowed a desperate sob and ran harder. _I'm sorry, Al. But...he'll die if I don't. I'm so sorry._

It wasn't hard to track the men down; the news had shown a map with a blinking red dot of their predicted location, and Scar always left a broad swathe of destruction in his wake. Edward finally cornered them in an abandoned train yard, which had been left untouched since the advent of the electric train. Mustang had just been forced into a corner, and Scar rushed towards him with right hand ready to deconstruct.

But with a yell, Edward leapt in between them, kicking Scar's arm aside with all his might. To his surprise, Scar whipped his hand around and managed to clasp Edward's left leg. But of course, the glow of deconstruction dissipated in the air with no effect, because Scar didn't know Edward had an automail leg. So instead of blowing his leg to bits, Scar twisted it in a sudden movement and pushed Edward back. Edward landed hard on his right foot, and heard a loud _crack_ as it gave way under him. Pain shot up from his ankle as he collapsed in a heap.

"Edward?" Mustang yelped. "Get _out_ of here!"

"No way!" Edward yelled back, pushing the pain down as he always did. He clapped his hands and transmuted his right arm into a deadly sword blade, even though he wasn't sure how much use it would be with his leg in that state. "I'm not leaving you to die! Come on, we can do this together!"

For a moment, their eyes locked and they were back in the office. But when Scar started yelling about vengeance and how God would judge them for their perversions, they focused instead on staying alive. And that would require all of their concentration and ingenuity.

* * *

><p>For several minutes, Roy could do nothing but slump against the outer wall of the old train station and <em>breathe.<em> He still wasn't sure how they'd managed to wound Scar enough that he was forced to retreat, especially with Edward wounded and his gloves soaking wet. But they'd done it. They'd ripped an old steam engine into a thousand pieces in the process, but the shrapnel had cut a deep gash in Scar's side, so at least he wouldn't be bothering them anytime soon.

It was still raining, but not quite as heavily as before. Now that the danger was past, Roy was longing to take a nice, hot shower and get into some dry clothes, then hunker down with a nice cup of coffee. And the boy's leg needed seeing to; Edward had barely been able to hobble around, and it was already swelling up enormously. So Roy heaved himself up again and trudged over to where Edward sat, cradling his ankle and breathing hard. He turned his back to the boy and knelt down. "Come on, we need to get out of here. And you're not going anywhere on that ankle of yours."

"No way am I going to ride piggy-back."

"Oh, you'd rather it was bridal style?"

"Shut up."

Edward's arms loosely circled Roy's neck and he hoisted the boy up on his back. He was surprisingly heavy for his size; Roy supposed it was the added weight of his automail. Still, he thought he could make it to the hospital. Hawkeye and the others were bound to be out looking for him by now; they might even run into them on the way.

The silence that fell between him and the boy was awkward. Even the banter had felt forced; they were both acutely aware of their previous argument. It was obvious they were both thinking of how they had parted, and what they had said. The pressure of the silence bore down on Roy as he walked, until finally he sighed and asked simply, "Why?"

He felt the warmth of Edward's forehead against the back of his neck. "Al...died. When we tried to bring our mom back to life. He was part of the equivalent exchange, along with my leg. But I...I couldn't...without Al..." His arms tightened around Roy's neck, and moisture trickled down under his collar like raindrops – only these were warm. "Only little brother I've got...so I...made a deal with T-Truth."

Roy craned his neck around as far as it would go. "Truth?"

He felt Edward nod. "The thing that makes sure you pay your price. I said I'd give anything just so I could see Al again...and it said that, in return for my arm, it could make it so I could see Al every night for as long as the sun was down. But I had to be there every night, or...he'd be...gone."

Roy felt his breath tighten in his chest. The street lamps were already on, though the rain was steadily letting up and the clouds were thinning. It must be far too late to catch Edward's usual train. Now he understood why Edward had always been so insistent about going home every night, no matter the cost. He would cut back on his own sleep and work himself into the ground if it just meant he could spend his nights with his brother. But now? It was too late. The deal with Truth must already be broken. "Edward..." he murmured. "You should've just gone home. Because you came after me-"

"I know." The boy's voice had been trembling, but now a sob broke out. "I know, but...but I couldn't let you die too! You're all...all I have left..."

Roy didn't trust himself to speak, so he just kept walking. Finally, he cleared his throat and said quietly, "Thank you." _For saving my life. For giving up everything most dear...for me. I'll never be able to repay you for that._ He didn't say these words, but he hoped Edward understood them all the same.

* * *

><p>Slowly, Edward opened his eyes and looked at the lazy afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains and falling gently across his stomach. Finally, he had a chance to catch up on all that sleep he'd missed over the past year; he'd been nodding off frequently ever since they reached the hospital and got his broken ankle set.<p>

He thought back to Mustang's visit that morning. Maybe he'd only imagined it, but he thought he sensed an added warmth to Mustang's voice now, an extra layer of understanding between them. They didn't talk about what had happened yesterday, or what they had said; Mustang was already looking to the future. He'd located a grief counselor, whom Edward had agreed to see as soon as he got out of the hospital. There had also been talk of Edward staying in Mustang's house while he recovered, so he wouldn't have to endure the train ride back to Risenpool and the long walk home. Mustang had even mentioned that he wouldn't mind if Edward roomed with him permanently, to cut out the lengthy commute altogether. Edward wasn't sure what he thought about that just yet, but there was a certain appeal to such a plan.

For a while, Edward watched dust motes lazily curling through the beams of sunlight, but gradually he became aware of a familiar presence. He turned to his other side, and saw Alphonse sitting next to the bed. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Al?"

Alphonse smiled sadly. "How are you doing?"

A huge lump lodged in his throat. "Al, I'm so sorry. I...threw you away."

"Shush." Fingers tingled against his skin as they wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks. "It was time. I'm...ready to go. To move on."

Edward gazed up at his brother, branding his soft, loving expression into his mind forever. "You were ready all along, weren't you? And I held you back. I couldn't let go. I couldn't...admit my own m-mistakes..."

"It's okay, Brother." Edward suddenly realized that Alphonse was slowly growing more and more transparent, as though he was evaporating in the cheery sunlight. "We all make mistakes."

Even now, even when he had made the decision to look to the future, Edward couldn't bear the thought of giving up the past. He reached out and clutched Alphonse's hand like a lifeline. Even though it was becoming transparent as well, it still felt warm and solid. How could he go on without this? How could he move forward like Mustang wanted him to, when his little brother was _gone?_ "I...I hurt as bad as the day you died," he choked out.

"You hurt because you're alive." Even Alphonse's voice was growing faint, but it lost none of the quiet acceptance that had always been there. Alphonse always took him into his heart, despite every horrible thing he did or said, simply because they were brothers. "This past year...part of you hasn't really been alive, because you wouldn't accept the truth. I'm so proud of you, Brother."

_Brother..._ A name he would never hear again, because there could only be one Alphonse, and no matter how important Mustang was to him or how close they became in the future...there was no substitute for that. How could he sit here and let that happen? Couldn't he give something else up, make another deal with the Truth...?

"Don't worry," Alphonse murmured. He was barely visible now. "We'll always be brothers."

Edward looked hopefully into his little brother's eyes. He felt young and vulnerable again. "Promise – everyday, come rain or shine, through hell or high water?"

Alphonse smiled. "I promise."

_beyond  
>sorrow's own joys and hoping's very fears<br>yours is the light by which my spirit's born:  
>yours is the darkness of my soul's return<br>-you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars_

_- e.e. cummings_


End file.
